


Strict

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Sickfic, vomit mentions tw, yeah it’s another’s sickfic fhdhfhf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: When Emma is set on going to work despite her fever, Paul has to be a bit more firm to get her to stay home.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/ Emma Perkins
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	Strict

“Good morning, Em.” Paul stretched out his hands above his head as he opened his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be up for work by now?” 

The sun was alright peering out above the horizon, leaking through the blinds onto their white, crumpled sheets. 

“Huh?” Emma’s eye’s were barely open. She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. We breathing was heavy. “Oh fuck, yeah.” She leant over to check the clock. “I gotta go!”

Paul rolled over to look at her, lifting a hand from under the sheets to hold hers.  
“Oh wow, Em, are you sick?” Paul flinched back from from Emma as they touched, rolling back to his side of the bed. 

Her skin was burning hot and uncomfortably sweaty. Her blood-shot eyes shut for a second. “Oh no, I’m...” she paused to scan her body. “I’m fine. I’m just really tired.” 

“Yeah. You had a pretty rough sleep last night. You were whimpering and everything.” He hadn’t slept much himself. She had been crying out and tossing and turning all night. 

“God, really?” She chuckled. “I’ve got to get up.” She pulled back the sheets but Paul noticed a shake in her hands. 

“You must’ve slept through your alarm.” Paul kicked the blanket off, yawning as he walked over to the cupboard to get out his suit. “I’ll drive you. I don’t have to rock up to work for another hour.” He looked back over his shoulder to find her still sitting on the bed, her head spinning. “Emma?”

“Yeah. I heard you. I’m getting there I’m just tired.” She dangled her feet over the edge of the bed, easing herself off. 

She dragged her feet over to the drawers, and by this time, Paul had turned to watch her, ever so slowly buttoning up his dress shirt as she limped over. “You’re looking a little pale.” 

“I’ve got a headache, but it’ll go away soon,” she admitted, pulling open the top draw to search for her uniform.

Paul nodded, turning back to the mirror to tie his tie. 

“Do you think I have time for a shower?” Emma asked, her head too heavy to turn back and check the clock. 

“Well you’d have to be quick,” Paul shrugged. “Your shift starts in ten minutes.” 

“Ugh,” she wiped her forehead before stumbling back to sit on the foot of their bed. “I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need a hand?” He felt compelled to ask, giving her a funny look as she shrugged out of her pyjama shirt. 

“I’m not awake, Paul.”

“Yeah, haha, you’re asleep standing up, hun.” He turned his focus back to the mirror, but watched her reflection out of the corner of his eye. “Are you sure you’ll wake up?” 

“I don’t have a choice,” she laughed weakly as she tried to do up her buttons.

“Uh,” Paul shifted her hands away to do up her buttons for her. “You do look really tired though. Maybe you should call in?”

“I call in a lot,” she shut her eyes, letting her arms hang by her side. 

“Yeah, but you work more than enough shifts to make up for it. I bet if I called in I could probably get you like half an hour more of sleep. Do you want me to? You’re looking really flat.”

Emma opened her mouth to speak before her eyes fell shut and she collapsed into Paul’s chest. 

He caught her by the shoulders before she could fall off the bed and pushed her back upright. “Emma?” 

“Oh,” she rubbed her eyes. She wasn’t using any of her own muscles to keep her sitting up, relying on Paul to stay upright. “I think I fell asleep,” she laughed. 

“No, I think you just passed out,” he laughed anxiously. 

“No, it didn’t feel like that. I just closed my eyes for too long. I’m ready to go.” She was yet to sit up in her own.

Paul was too busy holding her shoulders to tie her bow for her. “I think you might actually be unwell.”

She shook her head, letting it loll to the side. “No, I’m just tired. I think I got like three hours of sleep last night. Once I get some coffee I’ll feel okay.” 

“You wait here and I’ll get you some water, then we’ll see how you feel.” He waited for a second because she still hadn’t sat up herself, so he gently laid her back down on the bed, hurrying off to get her a cool glass of water.

“Emma!” When he returned, she was up already, slipping on her shoes. “I thought you were gonna sit down for a moment.” He handed her the glass, but her fingers didn’t wrap around it properly so he had to hold on and help her sip at it. 

“Thanks. That’s much better,” she wiped her lips. 

“I don’t think you should go to work. If you can’t hold a cup of water how are you going to hold a pitcher? Come on, you should-“

“No!” She batted his hands off her shoulders. “You’re smothering me! If I’m feeling really bad I’ll just take my break.” 

She was dead serious about going to work, even in her state. God, Paul wasn’t allowing that, he was going to have to toughen up. He brushed her hair from her eyes. “Just sit down. I’ll call in for you.”

“Don’t, man. You’ve got to go to work, I’d probably be better off with people around me if you’re so worried,” she coughed, checking the time on her phone. “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

He raised an eyebrow, taking her shoulders and slowly shifting his balance from foot to foot. “Uh babe? I know you passed out so you weren’t awake for it, but you passed out.” He had to talk with a hint of steel in his tone to hold her attention. “It’s not that I don’t think you should go, it’s that I don’t think you can.” She barely resisted as he moved her back to the bed.

“I’m just tired,” she tried to tell him once more, but her voice caved and fell until she was only whining. He helped her lay down, and she didn’t put up a fight. 

“Good.” It was easier for her not to be stubborn.

“I’ll go after I’ve had my nap.” 

“No!” He shook his head. “I’ll ring in for you, but you’re staying home. I’m going to tell Nora to turn you away if you try and turn up.” He put his phone to his ear even though he hadn’t turned it on, just so she would know he was serious. 

He shut the bedroom door, pacing into the living room to make the call.  
“Hey Nora.”

“Ah, Paul. Bringer of bad news and generous tips. But I’m assuming this is the former?” She predicted. “Emma is sick, isn’t she?” 

“Yup. I mean, she’s still trying to come to work but I don’t think she’ll make it,” Paul had to confess, eyeing the bedroom door. “She looks pretty bad. I’ll be surprised if she’s still awake by the time I leave for work.” 

“How bad is pretty bad?” 

“She fainted about five minutes after waking up and she can’t hold a cup. So I guess she won’t be much help to you.” 

Nora wasn’t exactly happy to have an employee call in so late, but she didn’t seem to have a choice other than to let her off for the day. 

“Alright, Emma. I’m headed off to work. Are you going to be- oh my god.” 

She was on the floor again, nursing her head. 

He knelt down besides her, checking her head for any injuries before standing back up. “You better have a good reason for getting out of bed. What’s wrong?” 

“I was going to get my uniform off again,” she mumbled. “I tripped.”

“Did you trip or did you faint?”

Emma huffed. 

“So you’re still sticking to the ‘I’m tired’ story or what?” He asked. “Maybe I should call in too. Just to look after you.”

“I’m fine,” Emma shook her head. “And I can take care of myself.”

“Oh you can? Well, you’re on the floor. So how’s that working out for you, babe?” 

“I can get up on my own,” she told him, her eyes rolling to the side, not expecting him to speak to her like that. She leant herself forward, tugging at the blankets to try and help her get to her feet. 

“Let me help you up, Em.” He put his hands under her arms. 

“I can do it!”

“Oh, so you don’t want my help? I should just let go of you?” Emma tensed up in his grip, leaning in to his touch. “No? That’s what I though.” He pulled her up onto the bed. “If you try that again I’m going to have to tuck you in so tight you can’t move.” He draped the blankets over her. “Now, I have to go to work.”

“I mean, so do I. But no, you’re so right about everything.”

He squinted. “Does your brain block itself out when you’re on the floor or something? I swear. If you try and go to work today, Emma, I’ll find out about it.” 

She scoffed, shutting her eyes tight. 

“Are you going to be okay if you’re on your own? I’ll get you some meds and some more water, if you stay in bed you should be just fine.” He didn’t expect any acknowledgement of his words. “I’ll come home to check on you on my lunch break, okay? I’ll call Hidgens and let him know. Maybe he can drop by if he isn’t busy.” 

“Fine. It’s whatever. Okay,” she glared at him. “Okay, okay! If you’re in such a rush to go then be my guest.” 

“Hey, don’t give me that attitude. You were whimpering my name in your sleep last night,” he glared back. 

It shut her up quite quickly. Her pale face lit up bright red and she turned away. “Really?” 

“Yeah, so don’t start getting cocky with me.” He wasn’t quite familiar with the whole being bossy thing, but it was sort of a fun role to play. “Now, I’m going to make myself some breakfast and I’ll get your meds, but then I’ll have to head off.” 

“Oh, hey, I-“ Emma threw the sheets back and Paul huffed.

“No, you’re staying in bed.” He pushed her back down, starting to tuck in the sheets.

“Paul!” She swatted his hands away. “I’m going to vomit!” 

“Oh! Shit!” He pulled the blankets back, letting her arms fall around his neck as he helped her to the ensuite. “Are you okay?” 

She was too occupied to answer. 

“Okay. This is gonna be a rough day.” He traced patterns out on her back, sweeping her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of her face. “Maybe I can send Melissa down to check on you when she goes on break, too.” 

Emma leant back against the cabinets. “Ugh, that’s no good.” She shut her eyes and held a hand to her throat. “Yeah, that hurts.” 

He nodded, letting her sit for a moment. “Do you want me to call in? Are you going to be fine today?” 

“Yeah,” she slumped down until she was on the tiles. “Sorry. I’m really gross.” She wipes vomit off her chin. “You must think this is pathetic,” she managed to chuckle. 

“Aww, hun. Well, a little bit gross, yeah, but not pathetic.” 

“Thank you.” She rolled onto her stomach to push herself up. Her arms were shaking as she tried.

“Let’s get you laying back down.” He hauled her up into his arms, her head resting against his chest. Her skin was still hot. “I don’t want you getting out of bed today Emma. I need you to just lay down and sleep it off. I’d say that’s an order but then you’d ignore out of spite.”

“That’s true,” she nodded, her words coming out very nasally. 

“Ah, there you go.” He tucked the blankets into the bed this time, hoping it was tight enough to cause her trouble getting out. “Stay put. We can have a little walk around when I come back from lunch, okay?” 

“Oh, sorry about your shirt,” Emma lifted a weak hand to point out a vomit stain, and wiped her face again. 

“Ah, wow. Don’t worry about it, throw up is totally in fashion right now,” he frowned and pulled at his shirt to keep it off his skin. “It’s okay. I’ve got time to get changed. Do you want to get out of your uniform?” He pulled off his suit jacket.

“Paul,” she began with half of a laugh, pressing her head into her pillow. “If you make me move I’m throwing up again. Don’t even try it.” 

Entertained, he scoffed. “You’ll have to wash it anyways.” He buttoned up a new shirt. “I’m ducking into the kitchen to make some breakfast. Will you be okay?”

“Can you make me something?” She asked, rolling over to watch him walk to the door. “I could probably go for some toast or something.”

“Oh, because your stomach is feeling better?” Paul begun. “I was gonna heat up the leftover garlic pizza from last night.” He watched her pale and grab her stomach. “Yeah. I didn’t think so. Call me when you’re about to vomit.” He shut the door on her angry expression.

He was confident enough that he’d be able to leave her alone for the day.  
She was still fairly lucid and certain in her ability to function. The real enemy here was how stubborn she was about just how well she was really coping.  
If he could just keep her in bed he would be fine. 

He ate, packed, and got the medicine down from the shelf. 

“Here.” He handed her the pill but her hand closed up. “Come on. You’ll feel better once you’ve had it.” 

She nodded but then shook her head. “I’ll throw it up and it’ll just be useless. Plus, it’s probably all placebo. We study it in Biology, your brain makes the chemicals on its own and if I know it’s fake it won’t work.”

“It’s not fake Emma. Not everything is a placebo. Come on, just take it.” 

“I’ll take it when I’m feeling bad again. I’ll just tough it out. I’m doing a little bit better after-“

“Em. My complaints department is shut. Just take the damn pill.” Maybe he was pushing it with the strictness, but she responded well to a firm voice. 

She sighed and downed the pill. Wriggling about under her sheets and looking up at him curiously.

“Now, are you staying in bed?”

“Could I go lay on the couch? Then I can just watch the TV all day.” 

He shook his head. “It’s a long walk to the bathroom from the living room, babe. And you aren’t making it anywhere on those shaky legs.” 

Emma bit her lip, shrinking into the sheets with an understanding nod. 

He had to tuck her in again. She was moving about too much.  
“Can you just promise me you’ll stay still? It’ll be easier if you do.”

“Oooh,” she cooed. “What is this? The doctor’s office? Hah. I’m not going to get sick from rolling over.” 

“Well sweetheart, I don’t think you’re going to try that out though, are you?”

She fussed with the blankets to pretend she hadn’t heard him.

“You’re all bark and no bite, Perkins,” he grinned. “But today, I’m quite the opposite. I’d better not drop in on my break to find you’ve been moving about.” 

Emma grinned, biting her tongue between her teeth. “Listen, it might be the fever boiling my brain but you’re pretty cute when you take charge like that.” 

Paul rolled his eyes. He placed a hand to her forehead to feel her temperature to further the joke. “Yeah. That’s the fever, babe. Get some sleep.” 

She nodded sinking into the mattress. Her fingers pulled at the folds and her breathing was still shallow, but she was giving him that small smile of hers.  
“On it, captain.”


End file.
